I Fall From Grace
by Forgotten Romeo
Summary: Sebastian is a demon, a hero, an assassin, a butler, a villain, a legend, and a hidden character beneath hundreds of death cases. But behind the arrogant smile is a humble story of a boy, a demon, and a cat. (aka Sebastian's past)
1. Prologue

Dust flew as a thick pile of clean paper landed on the table followed by a bottle of ink and a quill pen. He strode indignantly back and forth in front of his study desk. His arms were folded tightly in front of his chest. His breathing was shallow and slow. I know him all too well to see how hard he was trying to calm and thinking of a way how to straighten the mind of his disobedient butler.

His failure to do so, however, only made his mood even more foul. He gave up and glared at me. The young Lord of the Phantomhive acting perfectly the role of a spoiled brat and a teenager hitting the early stage of puberty. He stood still in the heart of the room, his visible eye boiling with anger and, perhaps, a bit of confusion.

Why, you would ask, would such a butler be so disobedient? The answer can never be much simpler.

It pleases me to annoy him.

"I order you to write."

_Yes, my lord_, should have been my definite answer. Nevertheless, I am a servant expected to obey any and all given commands _when first told_.

"How many times do I have to repeat myself?"

_No matter how ridiculous_.

"I order you to write..."

_No matter how hard_.

"... your past, Sebastian."

"Why, bocchan? What great an event has provoked you to come up with such a... an idea?" Not many times was I at lost for descriptive words. I was opting for terrible, really, but painstaking seemed more appropriate. There is also the word difficult or the word awful Humans have a thing for words I deeply enjoy. It harnesses creativity most demons won't and/or can't tolerate.

"It's none of your concerns," he said, shrugging.

"I believe I gave you subtle hints about my age, bocchan. Recalling memories from ancient past will not be as easy as it may seem."

"I do not care as long as you fulfill my orders to the best of your capabilities however you seem fit." Cold and commanding as ever this dear child is.

I knelt and bowed as humbly as he needed. Keeping him satisfied will make my hundred-year worth meal tastier, better.

"As close to reality as possible. I will not endure dishonesty, fabrication, and any of the sort. Am I understood?"

"Yes, my lord."

His reason might not be as great after all. The mansion had gotten silent over time, save from his other three unbelievably incapable servants, and boredom easily gets into my young master's head. This may all be just a sudden whim that happens to pass by his mind.

I sat on his high chair tentatively. It is the only chair in the study room and it is reasonable enough to sit here as I write. Had I been wrong, this little mistake will cause another tantrum from the young lord. While annoying him once a day is pleasing, any more of it will be a lot less entertaining.

And so I was relieve when he did not as much stir from his position spare the raise of an eyebrow. "Well?"

"Where do you expect me begin?"

His glare intensified. "From the end."

I sighed and wrote down a few words, an introduction to my rather long epic. Of course, I wrote them in the script I am most familiar with. He took careful steps forward and peered at my work. I smirked. He scowled.

This language is neither English nor anything human. In my old age, I spent most of it feeding off as a demon and so this is how I write, by habit. It certainly did not amuse my young charge however.

The brat teasingly took his eye patch off. His other eye shone like a midnight star among his nightly frame. It reveals my pentacle, our proof of contract, his domination over a demon.

The eye patch flopped on the carpeted floor as it landed. "In English!"

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

I come by a lot of names, depending upon where I am, what era I am in, who I am serving, and what race I stand in. I had been called a hundred different names that I recall no more than a handful. I treasure them like how a man hungry and dying alone in a desert would treasure a sack of diamond. Among my acquaintances, for example, I am known as The Prince. Among the rest, I am simply called the demon. But above all stood a single one. My true name. The name I am sincerely given by the simple act of being born to it.

My true name. I cannot tell you. Not until everything that matters now, matters not any longer. I shall, therefore, write my name as Sebastian, which you have given me, and this is the story of Sebastian the human.

* * *

**A/N**: This is my shot of Sebastian's past. I would try to be as close to plausibility as possible. I mean Sebastian's got to be more than 3000 years old but I won't write a fic set in very ancient Egypt. So this is where the anime/manga and my mind cannon come in. The plot is patched from every bit of detail I could grab onto. Please bare with me. The demon aka Sebastian's POV. Written with phone. If you have some ideas, tell me. Sorry if it's OOC or something... It's my first fanfic... or something oAo I'm scared |||OTL Please be nice QAQ


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Contrary to what I think you believe in, I was, humbly enough, a human, born at the time of the great King Henry IV in the outskirts of London. I remember sitting lifelessly on cart attached to a horse along with other childrenin varied age groups. None of us knew where we're headed but none did care all the same. All we knew was our fate was shared, one and equal, bought as slaves by a prominent nobleman.

Memories earlier than that were either vague or non-existent. I see fragments of images but not enough to make out anything from them. I never bothered knowing where I came from or how I got there. My father might have been a local carpenter or the Earl of Cambridge. I might have lived in a castle or the slums. Truth be told, it was no use finding out. By then, it was all too late to go back to family.

All I knew was my name.

There was at least a dozen of us, chained in pairs by wrist. The kid I was paired with had blond curly hair kept back neatly, free of dirt, and sported a set of clean clothes. His green eyes were bright and he was leaning towards chubby. I, on the other hand, was his exact opposite. I had black messy hair; I was bony and pale. My clothes were ragged and dirty as my whole body was. I probably smelled unpleasant too.

The chains were supposed to keep us from escaping but it did no such thing. It even proved to be trouble.

As we passed through a large metal gate into a forest, my partner whispered. "My name is Theodore Canter."

It wasn't his real name as you might try to look it up to gather more information I am not willing to share.

"You can call me Theo," he continued. "We need to cooperate if we want to escape. My mother won't be too happy to find me like this."

I expected a pang of jealousy at the mention of family but found myself muttering instead. "I don't want to escape." The idea of being a homeless rat at the backstreets of the city didn't sit well with my mind. I'd rather be a slave.

He sighed with impatience. "I'll have to drag you then. You seem light enough."

"I have no family to return to, anyway."

He thought for a moment. "My mother will take care of you," he said finally. "We could be brothers!"

I didn't bother answering. The rest of the journey went smoothly. He didn't speak again and I was left to watch the view pass by. Soon, the moon rose over the horizon, and so did the largest mansion I had seen that far. Dark from the shadows, it loomed over the smaller buildings that surrounded it. A perfect comparison to the moon at the heart of a starry sky that was its background. A small manor compared to the Phantomhive Estate, but at that moment, it was the closest picture I had to a palace.

A brief thought came to mind that I'll have a palace of my own someday. But the thought was quickly forgotten when the cart pulled to a stop in front of a barren structure. The structure was a one storey long wooden building with metal doors and barred windows. There was only a pale light escaping from the windows, perhaps from a dying lamp. The slave's den, I supposed.

The slave merchants were off the cart first followed by the pair nearest to the exit. I took the time as the others pile out to observe the surrounding. To my right was a thick forest leading to the mansion. To my left were the den and an expanse of various crops. Ahead was a mix of the two.

Theo started whispering again. "I've seen slave deals before. See that man with a cane? Either he's a trusted servant or the owner himself. He's our buyer. He's going to talk to the slave merchants for our lot's price. They'll be distracted. That's our chance."

I nodded. Fools like him are hard to argue with so I kept my counsel.

We were told to form a line. Theo and I moved at the very back, near the safe darkness of the midnight forest. True enough, the merchants and the man with a cane went towards the back of the den to discuss the price in private. Only a handful of watchers were left to look after us. Most of them weren't really watching, only cursing us with their presence

"We'll do it nice and slow when no one's watching." When we thought no one is watching was the right words for it. "Then we'll run into the forest."

It was the most obvious, simplest plan of escape, one that always almost fails.

We slowly backed to the shadows and, in a few steps, we're out of sight. When we heard no stir, no alarm from the watchers that we had gone, we bolted to a random direction. Theo was faster and stronger than I am that I had a hard time running at the same pace. Once or twice, I remember falling in failure of keeping up. He merely pulled me up through the chains and we ran again.

We stopped after a long while to catch breath. I was panting long and heavy, my legs were burning, and my throat was sore from lack of air. It took all my willpower not to collapse. I looked over to my companion to see how he was taking the exhaustion. He was grinning wide, leaning on a tree. It was an annoying smug grin of triumph but I allowed myself to smile back.

"We should stay in for the night. Darkness will get us nowhere."

That statement suddenly made me hear the sound of the forest that spells danger. The hoot of the owls, the howl of the wolves, the chirp of the insect, the sound of unknown moving. I noticed the watching glare of predators and the scary faces shadows make. Staying inside the forest over the rest of the night didn't sound good.

"Can you climb trees?" He asked, already looking up at the tree he was leaning on earlier. "It's safer on higher ground."

"What of snakes and insects?" I asked back. "They're as dangerous as wolves."

"Just come on." He tugged on the chain and started climbing. I followed his wake.

The view from above was different. I felt closer to the sky and definitely safer. The mansion was just ahead, in clearer view, and the slave's den was nowhere to be seen.

"Huge, isn't it?" He said when he caught the direction I was looking. "My mother said a room inside a mansion is even larger than our house. I've always told myself that someday I'll own one."

I fell asleep thinking of what tomorrow would bring.

The morrow, however, onyl brought us trouble. We were awaken by a loud yell from down below just before the sun rose. One of the watchers was smirking at us, holding a lamp on one hand and a whip on the other. He looked very evil and ready to kill.

"You got us all worried last night," he yelled loud enough for us to hear. He brought the whip down in a sample strike and prepared us for what was to come. It looked painful.

He asked me a couple of question before we climb down. "You haven't told me your name yet."

"Sebastian."

"Got anything shorter?"

"No."

"Sebastian it is then. Nice meeting you. Hope we survive this."

The punishment that came afterwards was indeed painful. But we survived. I was barely seven years old at that time.

~0~

I was half way through the second page when the young lord snatched the papers. He skimmed through it, a frown slowly gracing his face. "Not his real name? I ordered you not to lie, Sebastian."

I just smiled. "I do not lie, bocchan."

-  
A/N: It's a random name really. Theodore Canter. Sebastian is not the Sebastian we know at the present. Of course, this is Sebastian the kid so he's different. Sorry for the mistakes, English isn't my first language. Also, Sebastian, who was writing, was addressing Ciel. And I can't really make the dialogue Shakespearean because I doubt Sebastian even remembers what the exact words were. And, I'm scared about posting chapters too. Hehe XDD


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